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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27558562">Jungle Planet: Path to Burkaqua: Riverside</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/moody_trans_detective/pseuds/moody_trans_detective'>moody_trans_detective</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Rogueass Galaxy [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rogue Galaxy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bestiality, Blow Jobs, Drug Use, Hallucinations, Orgy, Other, monster fucking, or...Beast-iality?, toe sucking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:07:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,753</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27558562</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/moody_trans_detective/pseuds/moody_trans_detective</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Zegram eats a dream mushroom and fucks some mutches.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Zegram Ghart/some mutches</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Rogueass Galaxy [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956043</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Jungle Planet: Path to Burkaqua: Riverside</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The kid was buying shit again. Zegram had waited patiently the first time back at Rhyzas Swamp, but he was through with that shit. He wandered off riverside, treading carefully so as not to disturb any fish beasts. He’d never liked those. Couldn’t figure out if you were supposed to eat ‘em or fuck ‘em. Fuck ‘em, then eat ‘em? Eh, there were easier beasts to handle.</p><p>Like these mutches in his path. They froze, bobbing their fleshy, taut heads at him. Zegram had the idea they were sizing him up just like he was doing them. He smirked to himself. He could smell their fungal must even from this distance, and it was perfectly ripe. Stump sap was saccharine; smiley pollen, heady; but mutch musk was rich and damp, had complexities to it like a wine. If the wine’d been made of poison mushrooms and decay, that is.</p><p>Zegram put his hands up, palms out. He flipped his hair with a motion of his head.</p><p>“Hey,” he said, “any of you mutches know where a guy can get a few dream mushrooms?”</p><p>The mutches nudged each other, communicating in the silent way they did. Mutches were smart bastards, so Zegram decided to be clear.</p><p>“I’m willing to return a favor. Let’s get off the path.”</p><p>The mutches, heads bobbing like giant raw phalluses, followed him into the jungle. Good. They were going for it. Probably didn’t think one man was much of a threat. After all, they could pack a punch, and poison coursed through their shapely bodies. Unfortunate was the man who tried to kill them and got blood on himself—the poison could cause serious damage.</p><p>It also could cause serious pleasure, if handled right. Zegram knew from experience the same compound was found in mutch secretions, but the concentration of the poison in their mouths was low enough not to harm, high enough to give a bit of an experience. The poison derivative was what gave dream mushrooms their hallucinogenic properties, too, so if Zegram could seduce one of these beasts, he was in for a good time.</p><p>Even his tired cock thought so. He’d be on fuck three of the day here, but he still could feel himself hardening pretty easily at the thought of the high he’d get from shoving his cock in a mutch. Nearing thirty now, Zegram could tell his ability to get it up multiple times was starting to decrease, though not by much. He figured he could handle more than three a day still if he tried.</p><p>One of the mutches nudged him and tottered forward, leading Zegram to the base of a tree where dream mushrooms grew like unruly hair. Zegram lowered himself to the ground and swiped a good number of them, then picked one to enjoy now.</p><p>Raw, the effect was more intense. Zegram only bit off a little from the tip. It burned across his tongue, down his throat, and he leaned back in the foliage of the jungle. Mutches pressed closer around him as the world blurred in a mess of greens and bird cries. They began rubbing up against him like massive cocks, heads smooth and fleshy. Zegram rubbed the top of the nearest one with a hand, imagining the sensation of palming the tip of his own cock, slowly in circles, teasing.</p><p>One lucky mutch was finding its way into Zegram’s clothes. Smart bastards, Zegram reminded himself as the beast’s spongey mush-hands slid over his legs. The little amount of dream mushroom he’d eaten made the jungle seem to haze around him. One of the mutches had removed his left boot and taken his toes into its mouth, slightly poisonous saliva causing tingling first there, then up his foot past his ankle. Zegram wished he had an eyepatch for both eyes. To not be able to see the swirling trees from his high, just experience this without the wooziness, would be pure bliss.</p><p>His train of thought was cut off as the mutch between his legs popped Zegram’s head between squishy lips. The beast had a kind of tongue, which Zegram felt intensely as it swirled around and around and around…The wonderful musky poison made him feel raw in an obscene way, but the dream mushroom had him unable to thrust. So he lay there on the ground and took it.</p><p>He'd forgotten the number of mutches he’d come to this tree with, but all were participating now. The one that had been under his hand was now grinding whatever beastly gill-sexual organ-combo it had going on near the base into Zegram’s palm. The mutch sucking his foot sucked harder. A few more in a number he couldn’t count were similarly having their way with him. And the mutch with the head of Zegram’s cock in its beastly little mouth was taking him all in now. To the base.</p><p>Doing a good job of it, too. Zegram’s head swam with sex and poison and he wanted to give this mutch such a load…Mutch spittle leaked over Zegram’s taut balls, making them feel incomprehensible, but good. He saw stars each time those damp lips hit his groin, his cock deep in the back of the beast’s throat. They were actually stars, too—he could recognize a few constellations here and there. He chuckled low in his throat. He was giddy. He wanted every mutch here to spore on him, douse him in their fungal ejaculate, shower him in musk.</p><p>The one grinding on his hand did. One moment the mutch was humping vigorously, the next Zegram was covered in warm, fresh spore up to mid-forearm. It slid over his skin like feather-light sand, caught in the hair of his arm, spilled over onto the ground. While the mutch was still there, Zegram turned his hand palm-up and groped imprecisely at the beast’s genitals. He must have grabbed something good because the mutch shuddered and spored for him again.</p><p>The others were releasing their spore on him too, at his side, on his half-numb foot. Zegram began to worry he wouldn’t come before the mutch giving him head, would be torturously left here in the Juraikan jungle hard and high while a bunch of satiated mutches wandered off to go poison a child or something. Still, he couldn’t manage to make himself thrust.</p><p>Fresh, warm spore filled his mouth, choking him. He hadn’t realized a mutch had been that close, or that his mouth was open. He coughed some out, swallowed the rest. The rich, earthy flavor danced across his tongue, warmed his gut. He didn’t actually know if this was hallucinogenic too, but figured why not swallow.</p><p>The mutch sucking him off came, suddenly and largely. Zegram felt a surge of spore against his inner thighs, sifting against his balls. If he didn’t come now he might not get the chance…his cock tingled, the fear of the mutch leaving him like this suddenly heightened his excitement, and he came with a roar as the mutch was pulling away from him, mushy lips only on the tip of Zegram’s cock. The beast paused as it got the mouthful, started sucking the come out. The bastard liked it.</p><p>“Hey,” Zegram managed as the mutch began pushing tongue against his slit. The dream mushroom, and now the vast quantity of spore—which peppered his skin wherever it had touched with tingling—had turned him half senseless. His tongue flopped in his mouth. “Cut it the fuck out.”</p><p>But he couldn’t move. The mutch was massaging its spore into Zegram’s balls now, then back farther, almost to his hole. Zegram was certain the beast had somehow gotten tongue up half his cock, unless it was the poison doing this to him. The mutch went back to taking Zegram’s cock again, still somehow hard, and then, inexplicably, Zegram came again.</p><p>The mutch still didn’t let up. It had a taste of Zegram’s seed and decided it wanted more, and more. Zegram was done with this encounter, tried taking a swipe at the mutch. Spore puffed up into the air in little clouds and the other mutches fled, but this one wasn’t going to stop giving head.</p><p>“I’m warning you,” he said. He wasn’t so far gone he couldn’t defend himself.</p><p>But the mutch didn’t let up. Zegram buried two shurikens in the beast’s brain. It flopped forward onto him, Zegram’s cock still in its mouth, poison blood dribbling onto his inner thigh and abdomen where it burned and burned.</p><p>He hadn’t thought this through. Of course not; he was high. Zegram swore in a constant stream as he attempted to push the mutch off him without getting any more blood on himself, especially on his cock. The corpse slid away onto the ground, blood oozing from the wounds, Zegram’s come dribbling out the side of the mutch’s mouth. If he’d been totally sober, he’d probably be disgusted.</p><p>But he was in too much pain. He had to get back to Jaster, who was constantly stuffing potions and other random shit into storage for later. One of those would quench the burn. For now, he pulled out his bigger flask and took a couple large pulls off it. For the pain, and to clear his head of the dream mushroom. He retrieved his shurikens and dusted spore off himself, shook it off his balls. It tingled still, smelled like a damp room. Zegram limped back to where he’d left the others, swearing and drinking as he went.</p><p>“What happened to you?” asked Jaster when he stumbled back to where the kid and Kisala were taking inventory.</p><p>“Mutches,” said Zegram, then held out his empty hand. “Potion.”</p><p>Jaster handed one over without comment. Kisala looked Zegram up and down as he drained the bulbous bottle.</p><p>“That doesn’t sound like the whole story,” she said.</p><p>Damn. Zegram finished the potion, already feeling the effects of it spreading like a cool burn over his poisoned flesh. He took another swig from his flask just to annoy her.</p><p>“Not that I have to explain myself to you, but I ran across some kinda mutch-orgy. Spores everywhere, and the bastards were aggressive. Barely got outta there with my eyepatch intact. Want all the filthy, beast-fucking details, sweet cheeks?”</p><p>Kisala’s eyes flashed. Zegram held back a smirk. Jaster jumped into the conversation.</p><p>“I think we should keep going,” he said. “It’s been hours and we’re not even at Burkaqua Village yet.”</p><p>Zegram shrugged.</p><p>“Works for me.”</p>
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